


Unwriteable

by Kitsubo



Category: Markiplier Egos - Fandom, markiplier - Fandom, youtube - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Mention of past
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 12:23:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15048947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitsubo/pseuds/Kitsubo
Summary: The Host and Wilford have a little talk.





	Unwriteable

Wilford Warfstache was an enigma to the Host. Of everyone in the Iplier house, he couldn’t control what the Interviewer -- or whatever he fancied himself to be at that point in time -- in the slightest. All of his narration skills, thrown to the wayside. Given those circumstances, one would assume he hated Wilford; however, in that respect many would be severely mistaken. In all honesty, it intrigued him more than anything, piqued his curiosity. How could someone so... _human_ possibly not be affected by his narration; or at least, be able to break through it so easily?

Wilford looked up from polishing his knife and noticed the other “staring” at him, more like his face was positioned in such a way that it would be seen as being stared at...if the Host’s eyes actually worked and weren’t obscured. He took a moment to set the blade to the side on the cloth he was using to clean it, “Host...are you alright?” He inquired, his chocolate colored eyes lingering on the other.

“The Host supposes he is just curious about...something.” Was the only reply the mustached man was graced with.

“About what?”

The Host did not immediately respond this time, instead taking a moment to think more carefully about his wording. His hands, which were once folded, now moved against the table, fingers splayed out along the wood. It didn’t take much more time for him to think. “The Host has noticed that his narrations do not work on you, for some strange reason. It is...peculiar.”

“They don’t? I hadn’t honestly noticed.” Wilford laughed slightly, taking one hand and rubbing his chin with it.

“You wouldn’t have if it doesn’t affect you…” The Host replied, tapping one finger against the wood. “However...there may be a reason that it doesn’t work.”

“Oh~? What reason would that be~?” Wilford’s voice picked up a bit as he leaned forward, dangerously close to the Host’s face.

“You are...unmoving, as it were.” The Host offered without flinching.

“Oh…” His voice deflated slightly as he looked to the side, slumping back into his chair slightly.

“Though… I am curious as to why that is the case. I have been...unable to find out through my own means, your mind is...very...chaotic.”

Swallowing thickly, Wilford tried to bring himself back from his down mood, “Ah, it’s...nothing, really. Just something from my past.” He tried to hide his falter in composure; however...there were somethings that even he couldn’t hide.

“...Warfstache, you’re not very good at lying.” The Host replied flatly.

He began to laugh nervously, this was obviously a topic that he tended to avoid, though it seemed that wouldn’t be the case this time. Unless he spontaneously dropped dead, but that was far from likely. It suddenly felt like the Host was staring through his very soul, even though he couldn’t see.

“Wilford.” The Host said coolly.

It took a moment before Wilford finally deflated, feeling utterly defeated, “It...was years ago...decades, even…”

“Decades?” The Host echoed a bit, intrigued.

“It...happened in the 1920s.” Wilford affirmed.

The Host was quiet for a bit, mulling over how to approach this situation. That was nearly a century ago at this point, how was he supposed to feel about that when everything about Wilford read that he was a normal human?

“You see…”

“If you…do not wish to continue, Wilford, the Host will not force you to.”

Wilford caught sight of Dark looming in the doorway and rubbed the back of his neck, looking off to the side, “Maybe I can tell you...some other time, Host.”

The Host could sense Dark was there as well, nodding briefly, “As you wish, Wilford.”


End file.
